For the past couple of years, since doing deep research to try and identify what the Turgovian Pear actually was, I learned a lot about Swiss perry heritage. For centuries, perry was renowned not just in the Swiss Canton of Thurgau (Turgovia), where it was made in great quantity by farmers, but it was exported to neighbouring countries to much acclaim. Masses of perry and cider were made, certainly till the late 1800s, especially in the Cantons of Thurgau and St. Gallen, but today, while there is still some cider being made, perry is all but extinct. Despite asking people who I thought must know why the perry culture had effectively vanished, there was nothing solid forthcoming.
Sure, there were guesses, Adam Wells and I have had several chats about this mystery. He had heard it was to do with a wave of prohibitionism at the beginning of the 20th Century, and that the trees had been regrafted to fruit not particularly suitable for making cider or perry. Based on first-hand reports in Germany from the 1950s, I had concluded that something similar might have happened in Switzerland, that changes in farming practices, and the increasing ease of access for farmers to get soft drinks and beer as the decades went by, simply meant that making their own perry gradually lost its importance in the everyday agricultural life.
As it turns out, all of these are aspects of the full story, but the full truth, the complete story, is simply staggering in its breadth and horror. It describes how a small group of people enacted a state-sponsored war on fruit trees that destroyed not only centuries of tradition, but completely altered an entire landscape.
The Fruit Woods of Eastern Switzerland
First, we need to look back at how it was for centuries, and how accounts of the Swiss landscape, specifically of Thurgau and St. Gallen, conjured images of a fruit paradise on earth, the so-called Obstwälder, the fruit woods of eastern Switzerland.
In 1766, Swiss pastor, historian and geographer, Johann Konrad Fäsi described the landscape of Thurgau, and the huge amount of fruit trees that were an integral part of the landscape:
“Masses of fruit is planted throughout the entire state, especially throughout Upper Thurgau. The fruit trees are uncountable; they are not just planted in meadows, but also in tillage. Every ditch edge is planted with a variety of fruit trees. In Upper Thurgau there are many fields planted only with Bergler pear trees. Because the trees are maintained with special care and, insofar as possible, pruned as standard trees, the disadvantage they cause to the grain is very slight” (Fäsi, 1766).
Almost 100 years later, in 1855, the German pomologist Eduard Lucas travelled to Thurgau to visit a fruit exhibition. He described travelling through the landscape and the vast expanse of fruit trees to be found there.
“My way led me through a large part of the canton of Thurgau. It would be difficult to find another region in the north or south that surpasses the Thurgau in terms of magnificent and well-maintained fruit plantations, which one could justifiably call [the Thurgau]a large orchard” (Oberdieck and Lucas, 1855).
He went on to point out that most of the fruit was of varieties more suited to making cider and perry than for eating, that this made sense, and that the varieties there were old, and absolutely best suited for that region.
“… the predominantly planted varieties are mostly used only for making Most [perry] and for drying, but it is precisely because they can be used for economic purposes, as they are processed en masse, that such extensive fruit plantations are counted among the most profitable crops here, where the soil has such a high value. However, the trees only belong to those varieties which, after hundreds of years of experience, are recognised as the most sustainable and usable, as those which are entirely suitable for the local climatic and soil conditions”.
Lucas also described how every field and meadow seems to have been planted with trees, an entire landscape of agroforestry combining trees with crops and grass, that had been so used for centuries.
It seems like no wonder that the entire region was described as an Obstwald (fruit wood), and an Obstparadies (a fruit paradise). It’s very difficult to imagine what this kind of landscape looks like today, it feels almost alien, but thanks to the photo archive of Mosterei Möhl in Arbon, there are aerial photos of the region in the 1930s and 1950s, and one can really see why the entire region was considered one great orchard.
So just keep those images in your mind. A sea of apple and pear trees covering an entire region, and centuries of rich tradition of making cider and perry. And today it is all but gone.
But how did this all disappear? The answers were surprisingly hard to find, until I heard a chance comment from a presenter at a meeting of the German pomological society in early 2023. Obstbaumeister Kai Bergengruen was speaking about methods for caring for very old fruit trees, and mentioned his opinion that the Oeschbergschnitt, a Swiss method for training fruit trees, was born from a time of fascist ideas of order and control, and that the creator of that method was also partially responsible for the destruction of 11 million fruit trees in Switzerland from the middle of the 20th Century. An absolutely stunning remark that set thoughts in motion. When I later contacted Kai, he pointed me to a book called Baummord (Tree Murder) by journalist Franco Ruault, that relates the history of a most remarkable act of self-destruction that was ever enacted on a fruit industry, all over a period of 25 years (Ruault 2021). Franco also works for the MöMo Museum of Cider in Arbon, Switzerland, part of the Möhl cidery, and most of what I relate here has been gleaned from Franco’s long research, which included fascinating interviews of those involved that were still alive in 2017. I wish it was available in English for you to read the original account, which is long and complex, but here I will try to distill down the key drivers behind this catastrophic event.
The situation till the early 20th Century
Up till the late 19th Century, Switzerland was a powerhouse of fruit production in Europe, with plenty of exports and a healthy local economy for fresh fruit as well as cider and perry. There are many historical accounts back to the 16th Century describing how famed the Turgovian perries were abroad, so the region had literally centuries of fruit growing and perry making culture. Production of cider and perry was very much an agricultural practice, and it seems that most farmers produced perry, some in significant amounts. As well as for their own and local use, there were certainly exports of perry to France and Germany, and Germany was also a major export market for fruit.
Earlier reports I have read so far never mention distilling, but by the late 1800’s distilling had certainly gained popularity, both to produce schnapps, rubbing alcohol and such, certainly small scale and, it seems, originally for home use.
By the 1920s the export market which had fuelled a lot of Swiss fruit production in the past was coming under stress. The aftereffects of the First World War, spiralling inflation in the Weimar Republic, the fact that other post-war European countries had begun intensive fruit farming, thereby supplying their own needs, meant that the export market for Swiss fruit was being considerably squeezed.
In 1900 there were estimated to be over 15 million productive fruit trees across Switzerland, and over the next 20 years yields were increasing as tree care improved with modern techniques. Several gluts within the 1920s flooded the market with fruit and, exacerbating the export market problem, prices collapsed further. Farmers who had for generations made cider and perry were now turning more frequently to the non-taxed distilling of that cider and perry as the only way to make money, which in turn resulted in flooding the market with cheap schnapps. Gradually the broader discussion about fruit turned into one about public health.
As an aside, I mentioned above that a social wave of prohibitionism may have had some influence on how things developed, and it seems that from the late 1800s, there was already some concern over the quantity of Schnapps being consumed in the country. In 1887 an alcohol law had been voted in a referendum which gave the state the right to legislate in the production and sale of alcohol, and some of the revenue generated by that was intended to combat alcoholism. Notably, it concentrated more on the likes of potato schnapps, and did not cover alcohol made from berries (including grapes) and pomme fruits, so after that time it seems that there was an actual increase of schnapps production using these raw ingredients. By 1920 schnapps consumption in Switzerland was reportedly one third higher than in France and four times as high as in Germany.
A 1926 alcohol tax revision, including provisions to promote a move to dessert fruit production, failed to be implemented. The referendum did not pass as the farmers and cider producers simply didn’t trust the Alcohol Board, but after much persuasion, and not a little propaganda, a revised referendum was held in 1930. During this entire process fears were expressed by fruit farmers and perry producers, who feared that the law could result in the possible reduction in the number of cider and perry-producing trees. But even the farmers’ lobby actively support the tax, dismissing any fears the farmers had, encouraging them to embrace modernisation.
The referendum resulted in a yes for the new proposal, which led to the introduction of a new Alcohol Tax Law in 1932. A law that didn’t just control taxation on the production and consumption of alcohol, but also extended its reach to the very production of the raw materials, in this case, the fruit trees. This gave the Alcohol Board unprecedented power not just over the taxation of products containing alcohol, but over the people growing fruit, and how they grew it. The worst fears of the farmers were to be confirmed.
The Swiss Alcohol Law of 1932
The revised Alcohol Law of 1932 was the key factor that led to the eventual destruction of so many trees, and the resulting collapse of Swiss perry making. As said, up until then alcohol made from pomme fruits was not subject to tax, so the primary reason touted for the proposed new law in the lead up to the referendum was to raise more money, with the state expecting a windfall from a previously untapped revenue source. Nothing more, nothing less. Later, additional reasons were added on in the public discourse, some of which have since been mythologised, and are the only reasons remembered, such was the success of the propaganda of the Alcohol Board.
What distinguished the Alcohol Law of 1932 was the novel connection between fruit usage and fruit cultivation. The plan was that by gaining influence over the very production of the raw materials, the Alcohol Board could then have more control of the resulting alcohol-based products. But even more, the law contained provisions to actively promote the cultivation of dessert fruit, rather than cider and perry fruit. To quote the law: “The Alcohol Board shall promote dessert fruit growing by supporting measures which have the effect of reducing the production of cider fruit and spirits. Such measures are in particular: contributions for the reduction of the cider [and perry] fruit stock“. But it didn’t explicitly state how this should be “promoted”, or how this would correspond with a decrease in spirits production.
One of the most astounding provisions of the new law meant that the state would buy excess spirits and fruit from farmers at a guaranteed price. Presumably the reason for buying spirits was to get it out of circulation, but it was also used as a source for making alcohol for industrial usage. But it was this guaranteed income that was finally more than enough to convince farmers to cede much control over to the state, as well as control over distilling pomme fruits.
But the plan to use the law to generate more money for the state’s coffers backfired spectacularly. The guaranteed minimum prices acted as an incentive to increase the production of brandy instead of reducing it. Within only two years, the state had paid out 30 million Francs to the farmers and producers. Something had to be done, but the result was a kneejerk reaction with dire consequences.
The Architects
There was certainly some incentive to do something drastic, but it must be underscored that there were multiple tracks that lead to this point. An undercurrent of prohibitionism. A failing export market. An increase in the distilling of perry to make schnapps and the accompanying disaster for the state’s finances, as their monopoly on distilled alcohol ended up costing them millions. But more importantly for this story, there were also the original plans in the new law to reshape Swiss fruit growing to focus on dessert fruit, and to thoroughly modernise the approach to fruit growing. All of this led to a state-sponsored project called a “Reorganisation of Fruit Growing” that began in 1950.
The government needed people to develop and execute a literal plan of attack. For this, three people were key, people who shared traits and absolute belief in what they were doing. Nicknamed “The Pope of Fruit-growing”, “The Iron Strategist” and “The Fruit-growing General”, this trio were the driving force behind the felling actions across Switzerland.
Hans Spreng (1901-1975) was at the top of the table, the so-called “Obstbaupapst” (the Pope of Fruit-Growing). Spreng had been elected director of the Swiss Centre for Fruit Growing in 1934, then newly founded by the Swiss Fruit Growers’ Association. This was the organisation that was to draw up and enact plans to reorganise fruit growing in Switzerland, as per the new tax law. Spreng had worked in the fruit industry from a fairly young age, beginning his career as a Baumwart (arborist). At the age of 21 he took up a post as a teacher at the fruit, vegetable and horticultural school in Oeschberg near Koppigen, founded in 1920. He was the first teacher of fruit growing there, and conducted countless courses in vegetable growing, flower care and berry cultivation.
It was Spreng who developed the “Oeschberg cut” method for pruning apple and pear trees. To achieve the quality of dessert fruit that he deemed necessary for export, Spreng tried to introduce more sunlight into the crowns of the trees and regular treatment with pesticides. His Oeschberg pruning method radically thinned out the tree crowns and limited the number of leading branches to four or five. This method not only drastically changed the appearance of the trees and thus the landscape, but it also led to controversy. Many saw this new type of tree treatment, especially when applied to older tree stands, as destroying traditional fruit growing, which is why Spreng was also referred by some as a “fruit tree murderer”, a premonition of sorts. However, his views quickly gained widespread acceptance, not least thanks to his tireless teaching, publishing, and course activities. In the mid-1920s, the Swiss Fruit Growers’ Association also adopted Spreng’s views on pruning and tree care.
Spreng’s desire for order was strong, so much so that his motto, even within his family life, was that things must be “so, and not so”. In the lead-up to the actions taken against the traditional fruit growing methods, he had even written a brochure called “fruit growing, how it is, and how it should be”. It was the foreshadowing of the plans he drafted to dramatically reorganise fruit growing in Switzerland, a vision to get rid of the disorder of the Obstwald and to usher in new approaches and an orderly structuring of farmland.
Such was Spreng’s control over the institution enacting the “reordering” of Swiss fruit growing, on retirement he ensured his son would take over his role, creating a kind of dynasty, and maintaining control of the office by proxy.
Spreng needed someone who could implement his visions with the same radicalism. He found this in Gustav Schmid (1892-1985), who during the felling actions became known as “der Eiserne Stratege” (The Iron Strategist). A former teacher at the Agricultural School at Arenenberg, by all accounts, Schmid was an authoritarian and patriarch very much in the old school mould, apparently feared by both employees and family members.
As head of the Thurgau fruit centre Arenenberg, Gustav Schmid wanted to be a role model for the whole of Switzerland in the “conversion in fruit growing”. In the tradition-rich fruit-growing canton of Thurgau, the radical guidelines of the Swiss Alcohol Board were difficult to achieve, and extreme measures were taken, leading to his nickname.
Like Hans Spreng in Bern, Gustav Schmid “bequeathed” his office to his son Walter Schmid in 1961, and apparently still exerted his control by dominating his son.
Finally, Ernst Lüthi was the man on the ground, the so-called “Obstbaugeneral” (The Fruit-growing General), reputedly not afraid to get his hands dirty. He was the first Cantonal Fruit Growing Advisor in Thurgau and an employee of Gustav Schmid, so his particular set of skills were known to the strategist.
Lüthi got the name ” Fruit-growing General” because he had the full standard trees, so typical of the landscape in Thurgau, felled with military precision. But also, allegedly, with threats, blackmail and violence against those farmers who fought against the felling. In his memoirs he recalled once having to dodge an axe because he had grabbed a farmer by the throat. Franco Ruault writes that “Lüthi was a religious warrior. Always thinking, feeling, and acting in the context of a struggle. The executor of soberly rational thought experiments that – concocted at desks in tranquil Bernese offices – were completely far removed from any natural law”. An opinion that was confirmed by Lüthi’s own sons.
Franco goes into detail on the history of all three men, with uncomfortable interviews with surviving family members and employees, and really, it paints a disturbing image. I’ve only touched on their personalities, but I think it has bearing on understanding the zealotry that was to come once the reorganisation (a specious phrase if ever) of the fruit growing in Switzerland was to start and then accelerate over two and a half decades.
The stage has now been set and the actors in place. In the next part we will look at how the plans of Spreng and Schmid were implemented on the ground, and the lasting impact this has had on Swiss perry and cider culture, and an entire landscape.
Bibliography
Fäsi, J. K., 1766. Genaue und vollständige Staats- und Erdbeschreibung der ganzen Helvetischen Eidgenoßschaft (etc.). Switzerland: Orell.
Oberdieck, J. G. C. and Lucas E., 1855. Monatsschrift für Pomologie & Praktischen Obstbau. Vol. 1. Stuttgart: Franz Kohler.
Ruault, Franco, 2021. Baummord: Die staatlich organisierten Schweizer Obstbaum-Fällaktionen 1950-1975. Historischer Verein des Kantons Thurgau. Frauenfeld.
All images courtesy of the Momö Swiss Cider and Distilling Museum.
Cider Review 
Pingback: The Swiss Tree Murder – Part 2 | Cider Review